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The last time I saw Ray “The Rainman” Austin, the cool March air of the New England winter was still blowing through the forests that surround the Foxwoods Resort and Casino. According to the calendar on the wall it was winter, but the sweet smell of spring was in the air. The gray skies held dark clouds, and it had begun to rain.
Later in the evening, Diego Corrales and Joel Casamayor would again show their hatred by pounding away on each other’s skulls. But first, there was a tedious undercard to wade through and it was painstakingly boring as the prelims these days have a tendency to be.
Gerry Cooney was in the audience, doing what he has done best since that magical June night in 1982 when he mixed it up in the desert with Larry Holmes at Caesars Palace. Cooney was in the stands glad-handing with the out of town crowd, signing every autograph and smiling just right for the lines of picture takers. He’s the only goodwill ambassador that boxing seems to have left these days.
And then we all heard it. It’s the unmistakable sound of leather slapping against skin that ricochets through the air like a gunshot. Your brain always makes your head whirl towards the sound. Ray Austin, from Cleveland, Ohio was up in the ring against a pug named Willie Williams from Atlanta, Georgia who is always brought in on nights such as this so he can fight just well enough to lose. It was a long, slow right hand that made the sound.
At 6’6” tall and 250 pounds, Ray Austin is never going to be fast. His punches come at his opponents like a log being dropped out of a second story window. His punches plow through their target, and he’s got the type of body that looks bigger than what the tape measure tells you. [details]
Later in the evening, Diego Corrales and Joel Casamayor would again show their hatred by pounding away on each other’s skulls. But first, there was a tedious undercard to wade through and it was painstakingly boring as the prelims these days have a tendency to be.
Gerry Cooney was in the audience, doing what he has done best since that magical June night in 1982 when he mixed it up in the desert with Larry Holmes at Caesars Palace. Cooney was in the stands glad-handing with the out of town crowd, signing every autograph and smiling just right for the lines of picture takers. He’s the only goodwill ambassador that boxing seems to have left these days.
And then we all heard it. It’s the unmistakable sound of leather slapping against skin that ricochets through the air like a gunshot. Your brain always makes your head whirl towards the sound. Ray Austin, from Cleveland, Ohio was up in the ring against a pug named Willie Williams from Atlanta, Georgia who is always brought in on nights such as this so he can fight just well enough to lose. It was a long, slow right hand that made the sound.
At 6’6” tall and 250 pounds, Ray Austin is never going to be fast. His punches come at his opponents like a log being dropped out of a second story window. His punches plow through their target, and he’s got the type of body that looks bigger than what the tape measure tells you. [details]
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